


Angel Bones

by MelodramaticMrTails



Category: DCU (Comics), Daredevil (TV)
Genre: Anal Sex, Blood and Injury, Deaf, M/M, Oral Sex, Permanent Injury, Porn With Plot, Religious Imagery & Symbolism, Rimming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-21
Updated: 2020-08-21
Packaged: 2021-03-06 14:27:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,326
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26020381
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MelodramaticMrTails/pseuds/MelodramaticMrTails
Summary: When Zatanna asks Constantine to do her a favor, he doesn't expect to get in over his head with a blind crime fighting lawyer. Boning him was more expected, though.
Relationships: John Constantine/Matt Murdock
Comments: 5
Kudos: 43





	Angel Bones

This started with angel bones. John remembers that very acutely as he stands, both hands mounted against the shield he conjours to protect the thirteen children before him. Angel bones and the blood of a saint. 

Zatanna asked him to pay back one of his favors and John, of course, said no. She threw a 'threat' at him, he shrugged it off as being too busy, then she enticed him with the actual interesting bit of information that she knew would get him to go regardless of any of the many favors he owes her. So here he is, in Hell's Kitchen, ready to meet her 'contact'. Typically, John stays clear of Hell's Kitchen because, honestly, the place lives up to its name. There's a lot of weird shit that happens in this part of New York and John already has his hands full enough with literally anything else. 

The sign outside the small office reads '& Murdock'. He can still see where the old letters used to read 'Nelson & Murdock' but clearly there's been some downsizing. The door's open and no one's around so John heads inside. As he hears it, not many people look to Murdock for cases anymore anyways. John doesn't expect Murdock to be staring directly at him from his desk when he walks inside. It's unsettling enough to make John shudder. People in this town are weird as shit, he swears. 

"John Constantine?" Murdock asks. He's doing something with his hands over there that John simply doesn't like but he can't see enough to say for sure what it is yet. It's really dark in here. 

"Murdock?" John replies in the same tone. Murdock grins. 

"It's nice to meet you," he says. "Please, sit." 

"Mind if I turn a light on first?" John asks scathingly. He peeks around for anyone else just in case this is an ambush or- really anything out of the ordinary- and Murdock doesn't particularly seem to care. He does get an odd look in response though. 

"I don't think I have power," he says. John flips a light switch and confirms that immediately. Right. Been there. He plops down in a chair and Murdock resumes doing that _thing_ with his fingers. John squints at him unsurely.

"So," he says shortly. "Bones."

"So," Murdock repeats back. "Bones." 

"Where are they?" John asks, skipping straight to the point. Murdock pauses what he's doing, tilts his head, then resumes again. "Or do you not know where they are?" 

"I know where they are," he assumes. "I did tell Zatanna I wasn't sure _what_ they were, though. She assured me you'd be able to help with that." 

"And now here I am," John scoffs. "So where are they? Keepin' 'em in a box somewhere? Where'd you find 'em?" Murdock laughs. 

"So she didn't pass on much," he says in amusement. "Give me a second here, I just need to finish this up and I can take you there." He hasn't stopped looking at John which is, more than anything, way more unnerving. The glasses really don't help with that. John eyes him back just out of principle of not being intimidated but still, Murdock doesn't even seem to notice. He sits forward in the chair and while Murdock follows his movements, it's more akin to, well, John wants to say it's more like a camera following motion than it is anything else. 

"How long's that gonna take?" he asks impatiently. When he finally peers over the stuff on Murdock's desk, he realises what he's doing; reading. "You're blind." 

"I am," Murdock agrees. "I guess Zee didn't mention that, either. And you clearly didn't do any looking into me." He laughs quietly. Zatanna said he was a friend and John really just takes things Zatanna says at face value nowadays. It tends to make his life a lot fucking easier. 

"Didn't think I needed a lot'a lookin' into a down on his luck lawyer," he grumbles back. Murdock smiles. "How do you know Zatanna?" 

"I helped her uphold a copyright claim," he explains with a simple shrug. He moves some stuff around, fortunately looking like he's finally finished whatever he was doing, and shuffles through a drawer. "We hit it off from there." 

"You don't say," John scoffs. Murdock doesn't exactly _look_ like the type Zatanna usually 'hits it off with' but far be it from him to be deeply annoyed and jealous. Murdock straightens his tie as he gets to his feet before reaching around for his cane. He takes it in hand and moves around his desk before stopping beside John. 

"It's a bit of a ways," he explains. "Come on." John gives him a look that, in retrospect, probably doesn't mean jack shit to a blind man so he simply gets up and follows Murdock as he begins to walk. Murdock stops outside the door and holds out a key. "Do you mind?" 

John exhales mildly but, all the same, takes it to lock the office behind them before handing it back. Murdock smiles and they continue on their way. While Zatanna has never _willfully_ put him in serious danger, they have played more than a handful of pranks on each other throughout the years. This is shaping up to be one of those cases. The more he thinks about it, the more he's not entirely sure what Zatanna said that made him so interested to come see. 

"You're sure these are bones you found?" John asks as they shamble along at a painfully slow pace. Murdock arches a brow at him. "I mean, would you even know what bones felt like?" 

"As I said, I don't actually know _what_ they are," Murdock replies. "But yes, I know what bone feels like and they do have extremely similar qualities to bone." 

"Would have saved us a lotta trouble if you'd just brought them to yer office," John murmurs. 

"I don't think it would have," Murdock says in amusement. John isn't sure what that means but he's apparently going to find out. "You seem unhappy. Is something wrong?" 

"No," John scoffs. "Can we hurry it up?" 

"Are you- upset I'm blind?" Murdock asks curiously. 

"No, I'm not upset you're blind," John answers shortly. "I just wanna get this done with. Just tell me where to go and I'll meet you there, how 'bout that?" 

"You're upset I'm wasting your time," Murdock says but it's less a question this time. John decides not to confirm that mostly because he thinks Zatanna would think that would be rude. If Zatanna sent him to entertain her blind friend's 'spooky' find just so she didn't have to hurt his feelings, he's not going to be happy. "Well, if you think you can keep up, sure, we can 'hurry it up'." 

"You know what, yeah, I think I'll be fine," John assures mildly. Murdock smiles at him. 

"Follow me, then," he says. He collapses his cane and John looks at him peculiarly as he heads down into an alleyway with extreme confidence. That, of course, is absolutely nothing compared to watching him break into a sprint suddenly, flawlessly jump off a trash can, and vault over a fence with a perfect landing- his stupid suit not even overly ruffled. John stares at him on the other side. What the fuck. There's no way this guy is blind. What did Zatanna get him into?

"Coming?" Murdock asks. "Or do you just want the address?" Okay, that's definitely a taunt. John hops up onto the nearby dumpster and over the fence with far less grace but just enough success. Murdock continues. John realises pretty quickly what kind of trouble he's gotten _himself_ into. Blind or not, and John's leaning on 'not' or at least not fully, Murdock is clearly a practiced free runner while John is not. He flips and climbs onto things in their trek, often leaving John to catch up at a shambling pace. Of course, his pride's too mighty to admit he can't keep up with a blind man or that he made some assumptions he probably shouldn't have. Considering no one's actually told him anything concrete yet, he doesn't feel like the blame is exclusively on him here. 

By the time Murdock actually lets him catch up, John is well worked out and out of breath. Prick. Murdock smiles at him as he comes to join him on the building's ledge. There's a smaller building under them that's been taped up to ward people off. John straightens himself out and cracks his already sore back. 

"Easy," he says. 

"Of course," Murdock replies way too smugly for his own good. John's fine with beating up a blind man especially now knowing Murdock can do _that_. "The bones are in there. Some gang members were using this place as a hideout for trafficking drugs and people. They dug down and busted through an old subway. About half a mile north, it ends abruptly into a cavern with, presumably, bones." 

"What you _think_ are bones," John says. Murdock smiles at him then he flips straight off the twenty story building like a fucking skydancer doll. Absolutely not. John is definitely not fucking doing that. He doesn't even see where Murdock lands and he sure as hell doesn't have enough faith in anything not to break his entire everything. Instead, he opts to pop down with a simple spell where Murdock is waiting for him, still unruffled and not even having broken a sweat. 

"You know, I see why you and Zee hit it off now," he says.

"Do you?" Murdock replies, already leading the way down. "I'm assuming you and her 'hit it off' as well." John stops. Murdock just called him a dick. Yeah, because John called him one first, but still. He catches up with long strides and watches as Murdock takes out his cane again. 

"How blind are you?" John asks because 'you're not actually blind, are you' sounds way worse. Murdock takes his shades off, which apparently we're glued to his fucking head, and turns to look at John. Both his pupils are completely ruptured and more so, there's scaring around his eyes like he's been splashed with acid. Even after watching him _freerun_ here, John has no doubt he's completely blind visually. Assumedly he's meta of some kind and has some other weird senses that help him out but who knows. 

They continue on at a brisk enough pace but John now gets the feeling Murdock is going slow to let him catch his breath. He could probably sprint there and still not break a sweat while John, not for the first time, regrets his dressing decisions. 

"These aren't- they're not human bones, right?" John asks. He feels like if that were the case, Zatanna would have headed with that and not played the goat on him. If Murdock just wanted him to come set someone to peace or something, there's better people to do it, sure, but John wouldn't have needed his arm twisted to agree. 

"That would be interesting," Murdock replies. "Doubt it. Again, as I said Constantine, I don't _know_. That is why Zatanna asked you to help me identify them." 

"Yeah, well, obviously you guys have left me out of most of the loop here," he scoffs back. 

"It was nice of her not to mention I'm Daredevil," Murdock replies with a quiet laugh. "Even if I'm pretty sure most of New York knows that now. Aside from that, I'm sure she thinks this will be funny." 

"Funny," John says back. "Alright, where are they?" 

"We're standing in them," Murdock says. John's heart skips a beat. He stops dead and wearily looks around again. The white posts he assumed were remains of the abandoned subway suddenly very distinctly become not that. Rib bones. _Massive rib bones_. John conjures up a ball of light to see better and sure enough, the bones rise from the ground to the ceiling and seem to be creating their own tunnel in the compact dirt. Matt leans against one and crosses his arms as he waits. 

John's never seen anything like this before. He walks a bit further but just the rib cage alone is massive. A few down, he can see where they curve back in where they would be connected to a sternum but that piece seems to be missing. At least, John thinks that briefly. He jumps back swiftly to stop standing on it where it's fallen from its, assumedly, natural home. This is- John isn't sure what to make of this yet.

"I assumed they were dragon at first," Murdock calls to him. Definitely not from any kind of dragon John knows about. "Not the right shape or size, though. There's more in the dirt but it's hard to tell exactly where. The whole skeleton though? I'd say covers four or five blocks." 

That's a _big_ creature. 

"Can I see them?" John asks back. Murdock shakes his head. 

"Still buried," he explains. "And excavating something this big would mean collapsing those blocks which I'd like to avoid, obviously." 

"Yeah," John murmurs. He moves back around to examine the ribs closer and tentatively runs a hand over one. Murdock is right, they do _feel_ like bone. Something of this size, this deep down? He can't imagine it's a prank or even some sort of hyping event. Alien maybe? There's an additional quality to them that makes it hard to _promise_ they're earthy bones. He takes his knife out to try to chip a piece off but they're too solid for him to do by hand. Murdock follows the sound of him with his face. 

"Anything?" he asks. 

"What are these markings?" John replies, gesturing to some of the symbols on a few of them. Murdock arches a brow at him. "Uh, right. I haven't seen markings like these before. Something this big? I have some spells I can use to narrow down an identification but it's going to take a few days. I'm gonna need some materials, some time-" 

"Some place to sleep?" Murdock asks. John looks back at him then around the rib cage again. At least, he wants to call it a rib cage and he's sure that's right but there's something just off enough about it to make him hesitate being certain. 

"If you're offering," he says. 

"The sooner we can identify what they are, the sooner I can start narrowing down who might come looking for them," Murdock says. "Whatever you need to make that go faster, I'm willing to help." 

"Well if that's the case," John murmurs and he leans himself against a different rib. "How about a stiff drink?" Matt doesn't look amused. 

After that, well, it was a lot of things. Not all that John remembers in crystal clarity and some of which, right now, he really wishes he did. The math in his head should be easy; he has to keep contact to keep the barrier up, if he goes down, the shield goes down, and the children go down soon after. By the most technical sense of the word, he can save himself.

But he's John Constantine and that just isn't an option. 

So John braces himself for whatever comes next and he's sure it's going to hurt but sometimes the point of magic is just to hope for a miracle. Which, for bloody once, he seems to get. The concentrated fire that comes right at him never touches him or the kids for that matter, doesn't even scorch his barrier. John sees it, though, tall walls of pure plasma that cut to either side of them but never touch. How long it sustains itself, John has no doubt it would have been the end of him and these kids had it hit it's target. 

Wearily, he glances back. He has no fucking idea how Matt is back on his feet already. After the beating some of the under demons gave him, by all rights he should be down for the count but there he is. He stands, nearly back to back with Constantine, arms up like his boxer father always showed him. John's not even sure he knows fully what's happening. Matt has already stated more than once that being down here screws with his senses and makes it difficult for him to perceive his surroundings like on Earth. Did he really throw himself in front of John not even understanding the danger?

John's not sure. 

Matt lowers his arms from blocking to defensive, gripping his escrima sticks firmly in either hand. John didn't know he had any magical inclination, either, let alone one _that_ powerful. He's not even sure _he_ could have made something strong enough to protect them from a hit like that and Matt seemingly did it without effort- without even material or words or _sigils_. Matt spits a mouthful of blood off to the side and he straightens himself out more as he settles into his injuries and into the pain they surely cause him. 

The underlings inherently move away from his blood. 

"If you want these kids or John Constantine," Matt says. "You have to go through me first." Not only can John hear it but he can _feel_ it. It's not like one of Zatanna's spoken spells, he's not sure it's a spell at all, but rather an absolution. The demons around them waiver and back off and John realises they're being obligated to Matt's word. He tentatively tests this theory by lowering his barricade and sure enough, the demons don't immediately flock on them like rabid dogs. The children panic to huddle together more. 

John looks up at the Demon Queen where she perches, previously more than happy for the entertainment now clearly annoyed that things are taking too long. She's a lot bigger than most demons he's faced off before and a lot more powerful, too. Leave it to Hell's Kitchen to be harbouring something like this. 

"Get the kids out of here," Matt instructs. "I'll hold her off." 

"Oh yeah? _With what_?" John snaps back. "You don't stand a chance, Murdock. I should-" 

"Do you think _I_ can get these kids home?" Matt says. All things considered, he's shockingly calm. Maybe it's just the adrenaline from his many, many broken bones. Unfortunately, he's right. John has no idea how he's doing anything that he's doing but it seems likely that Matt doesn't either. He needs time to complete a transportation spell for this many people though and he's not sure Matt can hold Her or her lackies off long enough for him to do that.

But they have to try. 

"Don't die," John warns. Matt smiles and his teeth are bloody. 

"No promises," he replies. He's a bastard through and through- no wonder they got on. John quickly searches through his pockets to find something to draw with and then he's to work. The demons are staying clear of them but he still only has so much room to work with and he's not willing to test if Matt's unexplained spell is cast upon them or the area they're in. Matt takes a step forward and several demons and their underlings rearrange to avoid getting any closer than they have to. 

The Demon Queen grins. 

"If you _insist_ ," she says and John can never quite get used to hearing her voice in the back of his head like that. It still makes him shudder even as he diligently works. She raises a hand up and a circle appears in the stone in front of Matt. Quicker than John can draw one, it fills with lines and markings and completes itself in just a few seconds then glows with dark energy as it prepares her summon. 

"Show me what you're afraid of Matt Murdock," she coos. The summoning circle hums and glows like an engine overworking itself and then, without actually doing anything, extinguishes back into silence. Matt takes another step forward, into the circle, and the Demon Queen scowls in annoyment. She uses both hands this time and a much larger circle begins to appear. It stops short of rising beneath John's feet but she takes up as much room as she can for it. The sheer energy the thing begins to radiate makes John wince. 

Matt's walking now, completely uncaring of the thing beneath his feet even as it sings with demonic life. 

"Show me what your fears are made of Matthew Michael Murdock!" She demands. Again, it burns and screams as it tries to do _anything_ and this time, the ground beneath it cracks. The entire slate of stone shifts, breaking the circle and cancelling out it's effect. 'The man without fear'. John thought that was just a spooky news headline. The Demon Queen screams in anger. 

"End him!" she instructs and despite their hesitations, they begin to swarm on Matt. John tries to hurry. The sooner he can get them out of here, the more likely Matt gets out alive. He can't risk sloppy work, not now, but it isn't the time for perfection either. He loses sight of Matt for a while among all the demons but the fact that they're still fighting means he isn't dead yet. In fact, more than a few demons, and the underlings especially, are _fleeing_ the fight- even against their queen's orders. If John had to take a guess, he'd say Matt's blood is doing more damage than anything. 

He hadn't wanted to believe it before but it's impossible to refute now; Matt's literally a saint. What that means, John can't fully be sure. 

Even more so, when he does see Matt again, he is even more beat up than before. He's bitten and scratched but he remains up and he remains fighting. But there's sigils now- _floating_ around Matt's head. John doesn't recognize them and seemingly, Matt is unaware of them. The summoning circle beneath his feet begins to glow again but it is no longer with dark energy. Did Matt take control of it? Something this size? There's no way. 

John realizes something else, too. He can't bring Matt with him. The closer he gets to finishing his quickly made transportation circle, the more the math doesn't work out in his head. He had to work quick which means it's lacking a lot of luxuries. John has to stay behind to activate it. Even if he somehow convinced Matt to leave him behind, if Matt stops holding them off, they'd eviscerate John before he could complete the spell. He can teleport himself when push comes to shove but Matt? Matt surely wouldn't mind getting left behind if it means saving the kids, right? He'd _want_ that if that's what the choice was. 

Dammit. 

But that just isn't an option for John Fucking Constantine, is it? 

Honestly, he's not sure it matters, anyways. Even if he could get them all out of here safely, he doesn't think Matt would go without finishing here and either way, John can't just leave him. It would be wrong or something- and if he really is truly a saint, it would definitely come to bite him in the ass later. John rolls his sleeves up to finish his circle. He reaches into his pocket and hastily finds a piece of paper and something to write with. After scribbling a short note, he crouches down to hand it to the oldest looking kid and with it, a small orb. 

"When you see the sky, break this, okay?" he explains, carefully wrapping the kid's tiny hand around it. "A woman will come to you. Give her this. She'll help you." And he puts the note in her other hand. The kid nods, shaky but determined now. There's something about Matt that seems to inspire that in people. John doesn't get it. 

"Good luck, kids," he murmurs. "See you on the other side." One way or another. Even if the rest of this goes to shit, without these thirteen children, maybe they'll be time for someone else to come clean up this mess. The kids huddle close together and with a final hand sign, John sends them back to the overworld. The Demon Queen screams in anger but there's nothing she can do now, not without having to go through Matt first and clearly, her underlings are having trouble with that. 

When John turns back to find Matt, he's still up and he's still fighting. There's no doubt he has broken bones and he's torn to all shit but he still stands and he still fights. John's certain that once he moves in, Matt's protection won't be in effect anymore so he needs to plan wisely. The sigils around Matt's head begin to turn and upon closer inspection, John realises he recognises them; they're the same symbols that were on the angels bones albeit in a different order. 

Upon closer inspection, they also begin to _open_. Like eyes, John thinks, then realises they _are_ eyes. Dozens and dozens of eyes. They're unfocused at first, turning and spinning in all directions, but then they begin to tune in and actually begin to look. They look at the Demon Queen, the underlings, John, and then Matt himself. Matt, seemingly, is still completely unaware of the halo of eyes above his head. John doesn't have a good god damn idea what's going on. 

The underlings stop suddenly and Matt looks puzzled when they no longer attack him. He takes the moment to catch his breath but obviously is weary as to what's holding them back. Then something begins reaching out of the summoning circle, uncaring to the break in it- maybe even uncaring as to what it was actually designed to summon. The underlings urgently flee and hop out of the way and Matt looks even more confused at the sound of them fleeing. 

John can only watch in awe at what comes out. It's some kind of hand, though hardly a recognisable shape; twisted and feathered with too many fingers and teeth and eyes. No, not a hand, he decides, a wing. The feathers don't lay in a single direction, though, but flow and curl like there's an extra dimension there that John can't even fathom. It's pulling itself out of the summoning circle and it's huge. A few of the underlings make the mistake of being in the way and upon coming in contact with it, they _disintegrate_ completely. 

For whatever reason, it moves through Matt like he's not even there. 

Another wing reaches out, different from the first, and a third and fourth, all grabbing and pulling like it's trying to squeeze itself out of a hole it doesn't fit in. John decides to quickly avert his gaze before he goes blind looking at the damn thing head on and he's immediately brought to the realization that his sight is already faded and especially pale around the edges. He's not sure he's ever going to get that back but that's a problem for later. He takes out his flask and angles it to look at the creature on its warped reflection. 

It doesn't look the same like this but it also doesn't scorch John's retinas so he takes it. The reflection doesn't show him the truth of what is but rather gives him what he expects an angel to look like. At least he can actually tell what, or who rather, it is now though he's not sure that's a good thing. A human looking hand reaches out and in it, it holds a sword far more familiar than anything else about this entire situation. 

Archangel Michael. 

John knows the reflection is a lie, he had seen the many wings when they first began to claw free, how sheerly _big_ they were, but he doesn't dare look again straight on no matter how curious he may be. There are things that man simply wasn't supposed to know and he's fine with not knowing them. The whole blinded by God thing really isn't his look. 

So Matt isn't magic inclined, John is pretty sure, and the chances of him _intentionally_ and _successfully_ summoning an _archangel_ are slim but honestly, the alternative isn't any more likely. Additionally, the arrival of angels isn't a good thing in his book if he's being honest. Archangels are as likely to smite and destroy everything in the area as they are to just plume fuck off. 

But, it seems, Michael isn't here to help. 

John really can only watch in the reflection of his flask as Michael tries to _get away_ and subsequently, _can't_. He _screams_ and John urgently covers his ears but it doesn't do him much good. He's deafened almost immediately and more than a few of the underlings around them just straight up die. John tries to quickly reorient himself without his hearing and sure enough, Matt hasn't noticed. He hasn't moved either, though, and while he looks like he's catching his breath, John is sure there's something beyond that keeping him in place. 

Michael flails and claws at the area around them as he's _pulled_ by an unseen force into the halo around Matt's head. John dares to look, to _see_ just for a second, just out the corner of his eye and the actual sight is far more harrowing. The monstrosity that angels are, Archangels even more so, being dragged down like a helpless cat to water. He turns his eyes back to the reflection and watches as Michael latches onto the halo in an attempt to fruitlessly save himself but all that happens is he pulls it down with him and they're both gone. 

John stares as Matt's injuries sear away and his bones crack back into place with only a wince or two. Matt raises his arms as if to look and feels out one of his shoulders before grinning. He says something but John can't hear it. He- he thinks John healed him, doesn't he? John couldn't even fathom where to begin telling Matt what the fuck just happened. For a brief moment, wings sprout from Matt's back but they come out in a cluster all pointing the wrong direction with too many teeth and eyes and feathers that don't follow any perceivable logic. John doesn't think they're actually there, Matt still doesn't react, and they fade away shortly after. The summoning circle dims then fades away completely. 

What the absolute fuck did John get himself into with this guy. 

Matt's talking again and John pats himself down quickly to find his spellbook. It's not everyday he needs a hearing spell; he doesn't make a habit of keeping that memorized. He just rips the sigil out and presses it to one ear in a makeshift hearing aid. It's not pleasant but it does the job for now. 

"Constantine?" Matt calls wearily. 

"Alive," John answers. 

"The kids?" he asks but he does sound relieved John's okay at least. 

"By now, hopefully in Zee's care," John assures. Which is a really good thing he got them out of here when he did. 

"Can you get yourself out of here safely?" Matt asks. The underlings are keeping their distance for the moment, weary of what's going to happen next, and likewise, the Demon Queen doesn't quite look like she knows what's happened either, much less what to expect. They won't hold forever. 

"We both know I'm not gonna leave here without you, Murdock," John says dryly. Of all fucking things, Matt laughs. 

"I can't let Her back into Hell's Kitchen," he says. 

"Yeah, I figured you'd say that," John grumbles back. "I hope you have a plan because we're outnumbered and out matched here- by a lot, by the way." He doesn't know how to mention the Archangel Matt apparently _inhaled_ so he's just not going to. Whatever that was, John hopes it's useful. He does notice Matt is actually looking at him like he can see. Clearly he can't, of course not, but John has to wonder if Michael is watching- and pouting, probably. 

"Then the faster we end this, the better," Matt says. 

"What are you thinking, Murdock?" John asks wearily. Matt grins.

"I think if we make it out of here, I owe you dinner," he says as he breaks into a run without warning. 

"That's not a plan, Murdock!" John shouts after him. " _Shit_." The underlings jump when Matt moves and immediately flock to figure out what to do. A few of them step inside where the circle used to be and once they're sure it's not going to evaporate any more of them, they hastily go after Matt again. Matt, renewed and refreshed, does more than just fend them off this time. He puts them down with systematic efficiency, not letting them close enough to do the same damage they had been. Many of them turn tail to flee with burns but nothing Matt holds is hot. 

He's going straight for Her. Dammit, Murdock. 

John steps in. He tries to thin out some of the underlings but, unsurprisingly, there seems to be an endless supply of them in hell. Matt knows how big She is, right? This is a bad plan. Finally annoyed that Her underlings aren't doing anything useful, the Demon Queen takes things into her own hands. She swings at Matt as he comes at her, not as large as the angels but certainly large enough to do some damage. Matt gracefully hops up onto her hand. 

This idea is beyond stupid but John still has to help Matt not die somehow. When She goes to try to shake him off, John swiftly wraps a magic tether around a few of her fingers and seals the other side to the ground. That's not going to hold her but it gives Matt the opportunity to scale her arm. John understands how he can navigate a city he's lived his entire life in, he understands less how he's doing any of this with his senses fucked to literal hell. 

He should really just stop wondering about Matt Murdock. 

John has to beat away underlings while he goes but as quick as he can manage, he attaches more and more tethers to the Demon Queen. She breaks most of them as soon as he can get them grounded but it keeps her occupied at the very least. More so, it keeps her from swatting at Matt while he climbs her like a fucking spider monkey. She's far from happy about this and the more she flails, the harder it is to keep a latch on her. 

"Murdock! Any time now!" John shouts at him. 

"Horns!" Matt instructs.

"Oh, you got to be kiddin' me," John murmurs. That's going to be a hell of a fucking shot. It's a good thing he's not partially blind and deaf or anything. Fortunately, Matt gives him a bit of help. Without warning, he latches onto one of the Demon Queen's horns and his sudden weight makes her topple forward. John tethers her other horn swiftly, giving it a yank and throwing her off balance. Matt swings around her horn, keeping her off balance and letting John attach more tethers to her. 

She snaps a few of them but John stays on top of them, tying her down with as many as he can manage, tighter and closer to the ground with each one until she's struggling to get back up. He pins her horns, her wings, and her arms, each one compiling to a stronger hold. The underlings make haste trying to combat him and once she's down, John focuses on putting up a barrier to keep them away. 

Matt hops over her head and down the middle of the Demon Queen's back. He wanders around like he's looking for something and she thrashes and howls the entire time.

"What are you looking for, a date spot?" John demands.

"I was thinking Chinese!" Matt replies. "Or Cuban?" Oh, John definitely regrets being such a bastard up until now which is rare for him. Nevertheless, Matt finds what he's seemingly looking for. He twists his batons back together and with both hands, jabs it right into her back. It shouldn't be sharp enough to puncture but it does and in the process, the phantom image of Michael's sword appears in its place. 

John expected some theatrics to Her death, maybe to disintegrate like her followers but she doesn't. Maybe it's because she's too big or maybe it's because she's just too evil but she doesn't do anything; she just dies. The tethers holding her down suddenly go limp and her huge, red eyes go glassy, and her wings collapse with a mighty thud and that's it. The underlings all flee from the scene en mass, urgently getting away from the area and likely flocking off to find someone else to gravel for. John makes sure she's really dead before allowing himself to relax. 

That was an ordeal.

Matt pulls his baton out of her and curiously, that halo of sigils appears again. Michael suddenly pops back out and John winces away briefly but it's safe enough to look at him as he is now- just a man with wings. John wonders if Matt could see, would he see the same thing. Michael visibly scoffs but it makes no noise and he looks disgruntled as he glares at Matt but ultimately, he makes no move of retribution. Instead he just sort of floats off, likely back to whatever Archangel business he had before being pulled here. 

John still has no idea what that was about and considering Matt still makes no acknowledgement of it, he's not sure he'll ever know. 

"You alright, Constantine?" Matt calls. 

"I'm fine," John scoffs back. Matt hops down and John comes to meet him. He's still bloody but he's no longer injured or broken from the looks of it. He taps his cane down and then makes a face at the wetness still stuck to it. John takes a handkerchief from his pocket and wipes the blood off of it for him. Matt taps it down again once it's clear and smiles.

"Appreciated," he says. John shoves the bloody handkerchief into a vial. 

"Yeah," he murmurs. He takes some scrapings from the Demon Queen's horns while he's at it. The noise makes Matt flinch but he still glances in his direction curiously. He no longer 'looks'. "You're- Catholic, right?" 

"That's right," Matt agrees. 

"And Catholicism has Archangel Michael?" John asks. He brushes out his trenchcoat before offering an arm to Matt who takes it politely so they can finally leave this damn place. It feels strange to leave in such an unfussed fashion but it always does. 

"We do," Matt says, now curiously. "Saint Michael, usually. The leader of the Army of God and heaven's forces. Among other things. Why?" 

"Matthew Michael Murdock?" John says. "You must have taken it for a reason, right?" Matt laughs. 

"My father gave it to me, actually," he replies. 

"Your- dad-?" John repeats unsurely. 

"No," Matt assures in amusement. "My priest, Constantine. Father Lantom gave it to me- the Michael part, at least. Growing up, people would always say 'there's the devil in those Murdocks'- about me, my dad, even my absentee mother. Father Lantom thought differently. He said if there ever _were_ the devil in me, I'd chase him right back down to hell where he belongs." Weird church stuff John doesn't really get. It's a nice gesture, he supposes, if not absolutely completely fucking terrifying. His sight is slowly returning but he's pretty sure he's permanently deaf and it wasn't even because of the demons. 

In retrospect, he wonders if Matt's faith was so strong that when the Demon Queen tried to summon his worst fear, it blew back in her face and summoned her worst fear instead. With how magic works down here and the sheer amount of blood Matt spilled just over everything, John wouldn't be surprised. He thinks he likes that explanation more than he likes the idea that Matt unconsciously summoned an Archangel on his own and then _commandeered_ him. Bloody fucking miracles. 

"It suits you," John murmurs. 

"Thanks," Matt smiles. He stops walking and John pauses beside him to see what the problem is. For a moment, he works his jaw then reaches into his mouth and pulls out a tooth. "That's been bothering me for at least twenty minutes," he murmurs. John takes the tooth from him and Matt takes his arm again. 

"Huh. So what's all this do to your faith? You still- believe in all that stuff having been to hell now?" he asks, putting Matt's tooth in his pocket. 

"This isn't hell," Matt says simply which, really, John should have expected. "A damned, vile, and evil place, but not hell." 

"How could you possibly know that?" John asks. "You can't even see- both because you're blind and because whatever weird way you _do_ see, doesn't work down here." Matt laughs. 

"You're not religious, do you actually care?" he asks.

"I'm curious," John assures with a vague shrug. "Humor me." 

"Hell isn't real, John," Matt says. "You pay for your sins while you're living and hope they don't eat you alive. Whatever these things are feeding off suffering? They're not of God or Lucifer; they're just dicks." At that, John has to laugh, too. He nods. 

"You know what, fair enough," he says. "Korean?" 

"Vietnamese," Matt muses back. "I just remembered a really nice pho place." 

"Then back to your place, I'm guessin'?" John asks. 

"Oh, Catholics don't have sex before marriage," Matt murmurs. "You knew that, right?" 

"Huh," John says, patting his coat for his cigarettes. Talk about sexual tension. But Matt laughs again and pats him hard on the back. 

"I'm kidding," he promises. "You're not going to walk straight tomorrow." John clears his throat, his face a tinge red. 

"Cigarette?"'

"Sure." 

X

John uses a pen to draw hearing circles in front of both his ears in the mirror. He should go get checked out to see if this is going to be permanent but chances of him doing that are pretty slim. If it is, it is, and he'll deal with it the same he deals with everything else. Having them drawn on makes hearing a bit better, less static and no longer lopsided, but it still takes some getting used to. He stretches his jaw until both ears 'pop' before looking at himself in the mirror again. He combs his hair back with both hands even if he feels kind of like a chump primping for a blind man. 

Coming out of the bathroom, Matt is gingerly prodding some of his bruises with his fingers. He has a lot of them, clearly those hadn't healed with everything else, but he's far from complaining. He turns towards John slightly. 

"All fresh?" he asks. 

"Yeah," John assures. Matt grins at him. He still has a surprising amount of energy considering the day they've had but John supposes some people are actually _recharged_ by sudden bursts of adrenaline. This is a guy that calls himself Daredevil. John walks closer to him and Matt holds a hand out to feel where he is, taking a hold of his arm once he's close enough. He takes a hold of John's face in one hand, presumably to have a better idea of where he is, and kisses him. 

A part of John expected Matt to have become disinterested in this once the adrenaline wore off, it wouldn't be the first time, but he also can't pretend they haven't been playing verbal footsie since they've met. All things considered, he should have expected Matt to be aggressive. He pushes John against the dresser and pins him there with his consuming kiss. It also shouldn't be surprising that he's intense about this, too. His mouth still tastes like blood from his missing tooth that hasn't quite clotted up yet but John doesn't mind.

He finds his footing and gets to kissing back. It's a stumble back towards the bed, Matt doing most of the pulling. He drags John to bed, pushing him down onto his back and straddling his lap. Matt's covered in scars, many of them from today even but plenty of them not. The injuries he sustained weren't so much healed as they look to be perfectly cauterized. Likewise, he's black and blue almost all over from either where his bones had been broken, where he'd simply been hit, or bites and scratches that hadn't punctured. He definitely looks like he's been through hell.

While he didn't take as much damage in their trip, Matt still takes the opportunity to look him over. Feeling his calloused hands run down his neck, feel out his shoulders and biceps, his chest and ribs, makes John more self conscious than he thinks he'd be if Matt could just see. He knows Matt's sense of touch is sensitive and he picks up on stuff other people don't. Old scars, knots that sit beneath his skin of past injuries, bones that never healed quite right, things that John doesn't tell other people, Matt just sees.

"Are you alright?" Matt asks. And, of course, he can 'see' him getting nervous. John clears his throat. 

"Yeah, just, uh, not used to- _this_ sort of intimacy," he admits. He already knows Matt can tell if he's lying so he doesn't really see the point in trying. 

"We can stop," Matt offers. 

"No, I'm fine," John assures. He wants to say it's nice but he feels vulnerable enough as it is without letting Matt know he likes things, too. He still has a reputation to uphold. Matt trails his hands down further, feeling John's stomach before slipping his fingers into the waistband of his boxers. He grins suddenly, making John suspicious, but not for long. John instinctively threads some fingers in Matt's hair as he gets down between his thighs and pulls his waistband down under his semi-hard cock. 

Matt strokes him slowly, more likely figuring him out than anything else, but regardless it gets John's blood pumping. Fingers trace his length, coming up to rub the fringe before circling around the tip. His other hand wanders down to briefly cup his sack before reaching further to stroke his perineum. John grunts quietly when Matt takes the tip in his mouth and lavishes it with his tongue. With his senses as heightened as they are, John figured oral would be unpleasant- he's less surprised to find out Matt is very good at this. He tightens his grip in Matt's hair as he takes more of his hard cock in his mouth and with his other hand, strokes John's rim teasingly. 

When he pulls off, it's just to get John out of his boxers completely and to shove him further up onto the bed then he's right back to what he was doing. It's less inquisitive this time, though, and Matt bobs his head along the first couple inches rhythmically. John curls his toes. For better or worse, he's sure Matt can tell when he's close to coming because he suddenly pulls off with a pop, leaving John's cock painfully hard and wet with spit and precum. He swipes from spit from his mouth with his thumb. Spreading John's thighs further, he rubs his slick thumb across his hole before spitting on him. A harsh, aroused shudder goes down John's back.

Fuck, he can see that, can't he? 

By Matt's cocky little smirk, he absolutely can. He doesn't say anything. Instead, he grabs John's thighs in both hands and kisses up the inside of one. John feels like he should be reciprocating somehow but Matt's positioned himself pretty well so there's not anything for him to do. He's even lost a good angle to grab Matt's hair now. Matt, of course, doesn't mind. He kisses John's rim, making another shudder go up his back, then traces it with the tip of his tongue. 

" _Fuck_ ," John rasps, arching weakly against the bed. Matt licks and kisses his hole as he works him open slowly. He wraps a hand around John's cock and presses his thumb against the underside near the base and- "Bleedin' _hell_. That's _cruel_ , Murdock." 

Matt laughs but he doesn't relinquish his hold at all, effectively preventing John from coming too soon. He won't say it's probably for the best, Matt is _really_ good with his mouth, but fuck if it isn't driving him absolutely mad. As much as he tries not to writhe and squirm, knowing Matt can see everything, that's not working out well for him, either. Matt presses his tongue in further, absolutely relentless in his lashing, and John stops thinking coherently. 

When he stops, John is panting and his legs weak. Matt sits up again, keeping a hold of his cock in one hand, and reaches for his bedside table where he pulls his lube. He hasn't known Matt long but even he knows Matt gets laid a lot. It has to be the blind thing. He's as much of a bastard as John is and John definitely isn't getting down like that. Matt drools a generous amount of lube down his cock and hole before stroking it in. He looks way too pleased with him. 

"Are you gonna take all day? I'm not- fuck-" John drops his head back as Matt presses two slick fingers inside him. "- I'm not new at this." 

"I can tell," Matt replies in amusement. John's face gets hot. He's not sure how to respond to that so he doesn't, instead letting himself be distracted by Matt's attentive fingers working him open. The thoughtful expression on his face as he twists and spreads his fingers in John's all too receptive hole is equally as flustering as anything else. Still, Matt seems to be keeping his eyes closed. 

John grunts hotly when Matt's fingers find, or rather _decides_ , to rub his prostate directly. He flutters his eyes closed briefly as he arches against the bed and Matt grins. His cock leaks precum but with Matt's thumb still pressed against him, he can't come like this. John groans more pathetically than he means to. It's worse when he takes them out, though, and John catches his breath. He's unusually pliant when Matt rolls him onto his stomach. 

Matt digs into his drawer again and rustles around briefly before pulling out his dildo. John bites his lip as he watches Matt lick a few of his fingers and rubs his cunt under his boxers before pushing them down. He rubs the other end of the dildo between his dripping wet lips before popping the bulbous side in and adjusting his waistband to help keep it in place. It's a decent size even if John is used to something a little bigger. He pours some lube in his hand to slick the other side.

John shudders when Matt feels up the back of his thigh and squeezes his ass again. Anticipation settles in his chest as Matt straddles his thighs to get in position. Matt uses a thumb to show off his shiny, twitching rim- not that he can see- before prodding the cock against his hole. He pushes in slow and John practically melts. Fuck he wanted this. Matt pins him down by the shoulder as he sinks in deep with one unbridled thrust. It's bigger than it looks and presses against John's sweet spot easily in this position, making him clutch the sheets and groan.

Matt moves his other hand up the back of John's neck and grabs a handful of his hair before rocking into him roughly. He goes slow, holding John down as he steadily pulls out and thrusts back in. John's right on the edge of orgasm and this is torturous. 

"You're a bastard, Murdock," he groans. Matt laughs. He shifts his position, wrapping an arm around John's neck and putting him in a less than gentle headlock with the other. John holds his forearm instinctively even if Matt isn't actually choking him- yet, anyways. He really can't say he's opposed to the idea, either. 

"That's not very nice," Matt replies in a rumble. He snaps his hips suddenly and John rasps out a moan. "You're pretty like this." Another snap. 

" _Fuck_ ," John gasps. He grips Matt's arm harder. "C'mon, mate, don't you- _shit_ \- don't you want a little reciprocation?" 

"Sure, but," Matt murmurs, slamming into John again and again but not near quick enough for the stimulation he needs. John rolls his eyes back. "I don't want to miss out on this, Constantine. Your skin's so hot. Your lungs tremble and shudder when you moan. I can even feel how hard your heart is pounding; the thump of your pulse." 

"F-fuck," John grunts hotly. 

"When your muscles tighten and your cock twitches. You're so tight, John. So _hot_ ," he growls. John's breath hitches when Matt finally picks up the pace. He doesn't last long after that, Matt's arm tightening around his throat as he fucks him in earnest. After keeping him on edge so long, his orgasm is more intense than usual and his vision actually fades a bit when he comes. A stream of curses slip out and when Matt relinquishes his hold on his neck, he drools against the pillow. 

John's out of it for the few moments it takes Matt to pull out and hastily shuck his own boxers off. He rolls John over again and mounts his shoulders, immediately putting his dripping pussy right in John's face. John doesn't need to be told twice. He grabs Matt's thighs and eagerly buries his mouth in his aching pussy. He's so wet as it is, it drips down the inside of his thighs and sticks to John's face and scruff. Matt groans wantonly as he steadies his forearms on his headboard. 

John coaxes his tongue through his folds and sucks his clit before mouthing at his slit again. Matt's thighs tighten around his head, firm and tight. He fucks John's mouth impatiently, clearly John wasn't the only one brought to frustration. He clenches around John's head when he comes, pinning him in place with a deep, satisfied groan. John laps up what he can reach until Matt finally releases him. There's only a brief moment where Matt catches his, admittedly, not very short breath before he's getting out of bed and leaving. 

It wouldn't be the first time someone ditched John immediately after sex but it would be the first time they did so in their own apartment. Which is impressive by his standards, honestly. 

But he hears Matt brushing his teeth a few seconds later. 

John tries to clean himself up a little with what's there but it's mostly a lost cause. Between all the lube and how wet Matt got, Matt's bed really just needs new sheets. The silk's nice, though, maybe he'll get some of these. John pops a cigarette in his mouth. Matt pokes his head back into the room, still brushing. 

"Put some clothes on," he says. "We need to take you to the hospital." 

"What? Why? Do you have something?" John asks.

"You have a broken rib," Matt replies. John scoffs. 

"I've had broken ribs before," he says. "I'll be fine." 

"I figured you'd say that," Matt says. "Which is why I didn't say anything until it punctured your lung a few minutes ago." John feels his chest curiously. 

"Like I said, I'll be fine," he assures. He feels the blood begin to drop from his mouth and when he tries to rub it away, quickly discovers there's a lot more than he figured. Hm. 

"Clothes," Matt says. "There's some blood stained shirts in the drawer you can wear over."

"Sex was good," John says. "Worth it." 

"Clothes, Constantine." 


End file.
